


Compatibility of Spirit

by murdergatsby



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Companion Will, Companions (Firefly), Feeling Exploration, First Love, Hannibal Being Way Too Smiley About It, Hannibal is a Space Cannibal, Inspired by Art, M/M, Will Taking What He Wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-01 01:54:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11476143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdergatsby/pseuds/murdergatsby
Summary: A Firefly/Hannibal crossover. Will is a companion and Hannibal is a man on the run.





	Compatibility of Spirit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [carrionofmywaywardson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carrionofmywaywardson/gifts).



> This piece was inspired by [this lovely artwork](http://hanni-bunny-lecter.tumblr.com/post/162874987925/weve-got-the-red-edging-to-celebrate-have), and written with the artist's permission! I've been a fan of Firefly for a long time, so this concept really excited me. I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
>  **Simplified vocab for people who don't watch Firefly and want to read this anyway:**  
>  \- Companion: A highly trained sex worker. Training includes communication, psychotherapy, and culture studies. Individuals are trained from the age of 12 on-ward.  
> \- Persephone: An Alliance governed, wealthy planet.  
> \- Ariel: An Alliance governed planet known for it's medical institution.  
> \- The Alliance: The government. Also called the Union of Allied Planets. Generally a disliked organization in the series.  
> \- The War: "The Unification War" fought for six years when independent planets wished to run themselves, free of the Alliance's control. The Alliance were the victors. Hence, the general dislike in the series.  
> \- The Guild: The Companion Guild is an organization that trains, employs, and keeps working Companion's safe. They're the Companion rule keepers.

Matthew Brown was an easy client. He adored Will to a point that crossed from flattering to obsessive, but Will knew how to handle himself. He knew Matthew’s fixation was harmless and he knew he was always the one with the upper-hand. Training in the art of discipline and control since the age of twelve had prepared him for people like Matthew, and there weren’t many forms of affection that unnerved him anymore.

Tonight Matthew only had Will for two hours, as opposed to the whole night, and was choosing to spend it showing him off at an extravagant ball on Persephone. His requests were only for Will to dress nice and to keep his personality open. _“As if you were ever anything different.”_ Matthew had been sure to note. He only wanted to parade him around to his rich and powerful friends, and tastefully exploit the fact that Will _chose_ him. He was absurdly proud of the fact, Will thought. With all this romantic pride Matthew had available, anyone would be lucky to have him. Will was indifferent to it. Matthew hardly even called upon him for sex and when he did it was _all_ about Will. As was said- Matthew was an easy client. Tonight was to be an easy night. Will had been looking forward to it.

As he was guided through the couples that swayed along the artificially lit floor, Will could make out the faces of his ship-mates. Typically, they stayed onboard when Will had events like this to attend. The ship’s captain, Jack Crawford, would find work for his crew nearby to bide the time. Will was merely a tenant renting one of the ship’s available shuttles, and wasn’t considered to be part of the true _crew_. He assisted when he could, with what he could, but those occasions were very rare.

However, Jack had decided to give them all the night off to treat his wife, Bella. Matthew was generous enough to collect invitations for them per Will’s request, so they were dancing their night away in the center of the ballroom floor.

Bella always looked nice but, as Will’s eyes caught her in the light of the chandelier, she looked beyond stunning. She was dressed in white-gold and glitter. Most of the women at the ball had their hair done up but that was Bella’s every day; she wore her hair down and free around her shoulders. It moved with her like a breeze.

Jack wasn’t always the best dresser but had out-done himself for this festivity. His suit matched hers, but didn’t upstage her. He allowed her to draw the attention of the room- invited it, in fact. He loved her and wanted the room to know it. It wasn’t entirely dissimilar to the way Matthew was displaying Will.

There were six others that shared the ship with the three of them. The pilot, Beverly Katz, had made it very clear that her night off would be composed of her own time and nothing more. She had narrowly missed being tossed the responsibility of watching Mischa, the sister of the ship’s doctor. Mischa was old enough to care for herself, for the most part, but he, Hannibal, was anxious about leaving her alone.

Hannibal never spoke of what, but something had happened to her. Someone hurt her, she was different because of it, and he blamed himself for it. He never said that, but Will was good reading these things. Hannibal was very proud of his sister but always shied away from the topic of where she came from.

Hannibal was an amazing surgeon. He was highly trained and came with the paperwork to prove it. He could find work at any hospital in the ‘Verse with the skill he showcased, but he chose to stay on a ratty piece of _fei-oo_ with the rest of this rag-tag crew. That alone was evidence enough to suggest what the rest of the crew publicly observed; he and his sister were in hiding from The Alliance.

However, Hannibal paid his way by much needed trade and didn’t cause any trouble. The crew functioned below The Alliance themselves, Jack and Bella both having fought in the war, and Will… Will technically functioned under rules _preserved_ by The Alliance. He had been raised to be respectful of the law and shun those who refused to observe it but, in his experience, The Alliance wasn’t always in the right. Hannibal and his sister had to be something they were wrong about.

The responsibility of watching Mischa was passed to Price and Zeller- two men whose playful personalities made them more than qualified to watch her, even if they acted burdened by the request. Hannibal wanted to use his night off to escort the engineer, Margot, on her own much deserved night out.

They were party crashers, twirling about in the shadows of the décor. If Will hadn’t known to keep an eye out for them, he wouldn’t have seen them. He hardly recognized Margot, who he had only seen in a skirt once before, but Hannibal looked the same as always. He was _always_ dressed for an occasion.

Hannibal wore a burgundy suit with satin detailing. His shirt was ivory and open at the collar. Margot’s dress was long and pleated, the color of egg shells, and tailored at the waist with a thick black bow. They didn’t match like Jack and Bella did. It wasn’t until Will caught Hannibal eyeing him from across the floor that he realized Hannibal was dressed to compliment _him,_ in his dusty blue attire and gold tie. It was very subtle and probably something Hannibal would later refer to as a joke.

Will bowed his head to him and smiled. Hannibal winked and lead Margot away to the beat of the next song.

There was nothing between Margot and the doctor, of course. Margot had a woman on Ariel that owned her heart. Still, Will felt his own heart tense with jealousy. Jealousy was something alien to him, and something had had been trained to be above. It was a toxic feeling in his line of work and something he hated to experience when dealing with clients. However, when it came to Hannibal, he wasn’t sure how to stuff the feeling away.

Will had many relationships but none that he didn’t get paid to be a part of. None that he could be himself in- his real self, beneath all the training. Even when making friends outside of his industry, he felt he had to remain a _certain way_. He was a product, of sorts, and he needed to present to the best of his ability. Anyone could be a potential client, or know a potential client. Not everyone found his twisted sense of humor enjoyable, or could stand long bouts of silence punctuated with biting snark.

With Hannibal though, that pressure wasn’t there.

They had met through discomfort, when Will had taken a bullet and required Hannibal’s help. Before then they had only breezed by one another in passing, and never really spoken. Will didn’t remember much about the encounter, but he had remembered cursing and snapping at him. He remembered being in pain and that pain turning him into a brat, and he remembered Hannibal smirking as if he found that behavior entertaining.

When he had healed, he had considered apologizing to Hannibal for his behavior. Hannibal didn’t seem to require one. After that, Hannibal had an aura about him that made things feel okay- Will felt safe around him.

Will referred to his imprudent behavior as “slipping up” but it never felt that way with Hannibal. He could be his whole self while in his company. Will started making excuses to see him until Hannibal called him out on it- He told him he didn’t need excuses, and he called him a friend.

Hannibal was Will’s first real friend. His first real _person_. His first real relationship. He didn’t care that Hannibal was hiding and couldn’t imagine what such a gentle man could have done to warrant any fair means of legal binding. With Hannibal, he wanted it all. Watching him even feign having something with another made him _tense_.

Another song change was Will’s cue to turn his full attention back to his client. It was a group dance Will recognized, and Matthew loved those. The people on the floor parted, and those that were willing to participate pulled to the center. Hannibal and Margot were among those that joined the dancers, which made Will shake his head. Hannibal was experienced but this dance was local. The chances of him leading Margot through it without embarrassment were slim- not that Hannibal was easily affected by embarrassment.

As the dancers found a beat to begin, Will realized that it had been silly to doubt Hannibal. Even with Margot’s casual missteps, Hannibal glided along the floor with the same grace as Will. As leads were traded and Will found his hands in that of a stranger’s, Hannibal smiled at him as if he knew Will doubted him and was delighted to have shown him up. Two more trades and Will found himself in Hannibal’s hands, being lead by a true master of the floor. He hardly felt as if they were moving- just floating above the music. Will wondered if this is what it was like to dance with him, then wondered if Hannibal might have had training himself.

 _Impossible._ He corrected. _He must just be wired like this._

When the song came to its end, Will was still Hannibal’s fate-decided dance partner. Hannibal had dropped an open palm to Will’s back and placed himself to the side of Will’s, as a warning that Hannibal intended to dip him against the final note. Will had moved himself as needed, and let it happen. At the closing note of the song, Hannibal’s arms wrapped around Will’s waist. He let Will’s body drop in an arch while Will’s hands braced against the broad of his shoulders. Will let out a deep and shuttering sigh- a revelation of being pressed this firmly to Hannibal’s form. It was an overwhelming and nearly spiritual experience.

Upon hearing Will’s broken response, Hannibal smiled to himself. The music concluded, changed, and Hannibal still held him there.

“Enough.” Will grumbled, with a volume only the two of them could hear.

Hannibal helped him back to his feet with his smile ever growing. He bowed to him as if they were strangers and Will bowed back. He returned to Matthew, who was ready with an essay about how beautiful Will looked on the floor. Will tried not to steal anymore glances in Hannibal’s direction for the rest of the night. He wanted to, though.

\--

Hannibal and Will had successfully spent the rest of their night separately, only catching brief glimpses of each other as Will was whisked off to meet social group after social group. When the night ended and Will bid Matthew goodbye with a kiss on the cheek, and a lingering hand on his chest, Hannibal appeared from the shadows without Margot or anyone else.

“Good evening, Will.” Hannibal greeted. “I thought you could use an escort back to you shuttle.”

He offered Will his hand and Will smiled. Will checked to see if Matthew had gone on his way, then approached Hannibal with his usual grace.

Will was still buzzing from the dance they had shared. The idea of touching Hannibal’s hand had his fingertips burning with anticipation, and his heart trembling within his chest. What he wanted to do was impulsive and that was against everything he knew.

_But, with Hannibal..._

Will laid his hand over the top of Hannibal’s and, instead of letting him take it and walk them home, Will used it to leverage himself further into Hannibal’s personal space. He placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him deeply, feeling over the bone of Hannibal’s cheek with the round of his thumb. He pulled away with lips still parted and looked longingly into Hannibal chestnut eyes. He didn’t look as surprised as Will wanted him too, but he looked pleased.

“You looked handsome tonight.” Will observed, not pulling his hand or face away. He felt nervous and some part of that was enthralling.

“As did you.” Hannibal said, without so much as pause for consideration.

They stood there for a moment that felt like forever, swelling in each other’s silence, until Hannibal took Will’s hand off his cheek with the one he had free. He threaded their fingers together and looked at the way they fit. They both looked.

“Shall we?”

“Lead the way.

\--

Will’s shirt clung to him by the stress of one button. The shoulders hung around his arms, allowing Hannibal’s lips full access to the bare curve of his neck. The bottom hem road up over Hannibal’s forearm as he held a palm to Will’s stomach and pulled his hips back to rhythmically meet with his groin.

Will panted hard into the fabric covered walls of his shuttle, arms braced against it and legs spread for Hannibal behind him. He was being quiet for the sake of the crew but he wanted to scream. He’d never had anything this good. Hannibal’s style of lovemaking was just as he expected it to be- all firm hands and suggestive force, slow kisses and grazing of his teeth. He took all the control away and just let Will enjoy the ride. 

Hannibal had walked him to his shuttle and _tried_ leave like a gentleman. Will wasn’t interested in that. Once given the go-ahead, the two of them had hardly given the shuttle door time to close before Hannibal was stripping layers from them, and escorting them to the stability of the wall.

Hannibal slipped his hand down the V of Will’s hips and took hold of his cock. He moved his hand carefully, each stroke with calculated intention. Will’s hands became fists and each breath became a stutter for _more_. Will came into Hannibal’s fist, gasping with honest surprise at being the one to come first. It felt good to not have to worry about it.

Hannibal pulled on the flesh of Will’s shoulder, dragging his teeth as a reaction to the sound of Will riding his climax. He wasn’t far behind and Will got the sense it _helped him_ to know he had gotten Will off first. He could feel the pride beaming off-of him.

For a moment, Will felt haunted by that thought. For a moment, Will wondered if this was just a game or a challenge to Hannibal; _Seduce the seductress_. However, the way It felt was enough to make Will decide he didn’t care. He really _didn’t care_.

Hannibal lingered and kept them against the wall. He kissed Will gently and Will turned his head back to request more on the lips. Eventually they felt able to peel away from the safety of the wall, and make their way to Will’s bed. Hannibal pulled him into his chest and didn’t let him move away; as if he’d want to move away.

After resting his eyes and combing through the curls of Will’s hair with his fingers, Hannibal spoke.

“I believe I owe you.”

Will sighed- not from a place of disappointment or relief, simply from forgetting to breathe for a moment. “No, you don’t.”

He hadn’t considered that Hannibal would think this was a _job_ to be with him. He looked up to Hannibal’s face and caught the smirk that told him _he didn’t_. Hannibal was just poking him, as he did, for more information. He wanted him to open-up.

Will kissed him, stroking at his cheekbone once more as if he couldn’t help himself to it now that it was available.

“You don’t pay The Guild.” He explained while resting his head back on Hannibal chest, chin first. “Technically, you aren’t an eligible client.”

To hire a companion, a subscription fee had to be paid. Then, applications had to be filed and physicals had to be taken. Many companions did work on the side or under the table, but they weren’t supposed to. It was dangerous to do, and Will had never considered it. This definitely wasn’t what this was for him.

Hannibal’s eyes opened and moved to meet with Will’s. He hardly moved his head from Will’s pillow. He still smirked.

“Oh?”

Will nodded. “I did this because I wanted to do this.” He said. “Non-work related.”

Hannibal took in a deep breath that Will felt inclined to label as something of relief. He brought a finger to Will’s chin and pulled Will deeper into his side. “Good.” He said, before dropping his lips back into Will’s for a kiss just as intense as the rest had been.

Price’s voice came over the income that fed into the room. His tone mocked that of pre-recording as he requested “Dr. Lecter’s” presence in the infirmary.

“You should go.” Will said, mostly to himself as means to lessen the blow of Hannibal pulling himself away.

Hannibal sat up and exposed his back to Will’s line of sight. He had a large scar on his back that looked like a brand. On the outer planets, burns like this weren’t a spectacle. However, on the core planets- the wealthy planets where Will knew Hannibal was from- this scar only broadened Hannibal’s secret narrative.

He had, of course, noticed it earlier but now Will's eyes could really dig into the shape. It was definitely a crest; the mark of a family. He wanted to touch it, but was interrupted by Hannibal finding his shirt on the floor and pulling it over his arms.

“May I come back?” Hannibal said. He sounded nervous, which made Will blush.

“Why wouldn’t you be able to?” Will responded with a tone much drier than he intended.

“I enjoyed this, Will.” Hannibal explained, clearly un-phased by Will’s tone. He stood from the mattress and turned to button up his shirt. “I’d like this to happen again but I don’t want to overstep any boundaries.”

Will laughed. He wanted to tell him what all this meant to him, and that he wanted this to be something that happened always. Their moment would have to wait, though. He had already pushed himself this far, and was starting to boil with stress.

“You’re not going to.” Will confirmed.

Hannibal smiled and looked down the bridge of his nose.

“You better come back.” Will added.

Will stayed sprawled out on the bed while Hannibal got dressed. Hannibal wasn’t making an intentional show of it, but he wasn’t doing anything with haste.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” Will asked, just as Hannibal reached the portal to the main ship.

Hannibal paused for a moment, the question seemingly knocking him from his pre-determined track. “We can talk about that later, Will.”

Will nodded to himself and allowed Hannibal on his way. He hoped that he could give Hannibal even a fraction of that same safe feeling Hannibal gave him, and was overjoyed as the prospect of a  _later._


End file.
